A Heart's Ransom
by RogueAngel953
Summary: Set after AWE, Elizabeth's son has been kidnapped by a man who wants the Dead Man's Chest. How can she save both her child and Will? With the help of the master of impossible- sorry, improbable situations of course! *Sparrabeth*
1. Chapter 1

Title: A Heart's Ransom

Rating: T

Shipping: Jack/Elizabeth

This takes place a few years after AWE. This was typed on a very odd new keyboard, so please don't be too harsh on typos, but if you point them out, I will fix them.

The day dawned bright and clear

The day dawned bright and clear. Birds were singing, children were laughing, and Elizabeth Turner was oblivious to it all. Because as she lay in her bed, she was remembering the very vivid dream she had just awoken from, and pondering the irony that she should have this particular dream on this particular day. Today was her third wedding anniversary, and last night she had relived the day of her wedding- both the good and bad parts- in perfect detail. It made the pain of being separated from Will just as sharp as it had been that first day. Anniversaries had always been hard for her. While there were little things every day that reminded her of her situation- her son's smile (so much like his father's!), the stares from the local women, most of whom thought they knew exactly what kind of a woman she was ( a baby and no father in sight, claiming he was out to sea, indeed. Well even sailors get holidays, don't they?)- But it was on her anniversaries that she was most painfully reminded of what she'd lost. She never felt so trapped, so claustrophobic, as she did now. It's like she's surrounded on all sides and wouldn't be able to breathe again until she was breathing the salty sea air, with water all around her and nothing but a few planks of wood between her and the sea. She missed the sea so much she could practically taste the salt in the air.

Shaking her head to clear it of the intoxicating images, she rose from bed to begin her day. It was not the first time she had longed for the sea, nor would it be the last. She's learned it was best to cut off the day dreams before they could even start. Still, she knew there was no way she would be able to stay around the house today, not when the walls were closing in on her. She decided to ask Annie, the girl who lived just down the road, to watch her son while she went into town for the day.

"Momma no!" the little boy cried as his mother tried to walk out the door. Elizabeth bent down and untangled him from her skirts.

"Dylan, you want to be a big boy, right?" she asked kindly. The teary eyed two-year-old nodded.

"Then you have to let Mommy go into town for a little bit, okay? Annie is going to be right here with you while I'm gone, and I'll be home when you wake up from your nap. Maybe if your good, I'll bring you back some candy," she bribed. His little face perked up at the word candy, and he quickly gave his mother a hug and kiss and ran over to stand with Annie, who'd been waiting in the hall.

"Thank you, Annie. I promise I'll be back before dinner," she said. Annie nodded, and she and Dylan waved goodbye.

The walk into town was not very long,-just a few miles- but Elizabeth would have preferred for it to go on for a few more hours. She felt the lightest she had in weeks. She hadn't even realized how down she'd been feeling lately, how confined. It was almost like when she'd started where corsets again. But now her step was as light as her mood, and she quickly arrived in the little town.

The town didn't have much; just a pub and an open marked. The market was always fun to visit, though. It was filled with little homemade things, interesting trinkets from incoming ships, and it always seemed to have a least one little surprise. She found some charming fabric that she could use to make herself some new skirts; hers had become rather ragged over time. She had lunch at the pub, and then found some candy for Dylan. So with her bags in hand, and a considerably lighter heart, she started for home, pondering what type of skirt she would make with the new fabric. She thought she might have enough to make Dylan a new shirt also. He was growing so fast, and looking more like Will every day. He'd be so happy; she had found him his favorite candy.

She rounded the last corner and her house came into sight. _Hmm, that's odd. Why is the front door open? Annie's usually more careful then that._ Something prickled in the back of her mind, but she ignored it. It wasn't until she was in the front hall that she noticed what seemed off. It was too quite, the house felt empty. Elizabeth quickly set down the bags.

"Dylan? Annie? Where are you?" she called, walking from room to room. There was no sign of them. She entered the kitchen and stopped. She could see an arm stretched out on the kitchen floor, whom ever it belonged to was obscured by the kitchen table. She rushed over to find Annie sprawled across the floor, a large purple bruise across her face. She knelt down quickly to see if she was alive. She was relieved for a second when she saw that she was breathing, before she realized that her son was nowhere to be found. Panic crashed over her like a wave. She shook Annie, trying to wake her up.

"Annie, Annie, you have to wake up!" she called.

"Huh… what hap- Oh no! Mrs. Turner, Dylan, they got Dylan! You have-" Annie said quickly as she regained consciousness. Elizabeth cut her off.

"Who took Dylan, Annie?" she asked frantically, cutting her off.

"I don't know, mum. It was two big blokes. They knocked on the door, and they had a dog with them. They wanted to know if it was ours, and I told them no, and the next thing I know, their pushing their way into the house, looking for Dylan. He was in the kitchen, and I ran in there to try to stop them, and that's the last thing I remember. I'm so sorry, mum, it's all my fault!" she cried.

"No, no, there was nothing you could have done," she said distractedly. Someone had taken her son, her little boy. But why? What could they possibly want?

"Mum, look! On the table. I think they left a note." Elizabeth saw it too, and grabbed for it quickly. It was indeed a note, written on an old piece of parchment in an untidy scrawl.

_ Mrs. Turner_

_ We have your son._

_ If you ever want to see him again alive, you will deliver to us the Dead Man's Chest and its contents. Go to the Faithful Bride on Tortuga and talk to the bartender. There you will receive further instructions. You have one month. We'll be waiting._

* * *

So, what do you think? Is it worth continuing?

And for anyone wondering about the kid's name, it is fully explained in a later chapter. As for not calling him some form of William,I just wanted to be different.


	2. Yay it's Chapter 2

Well, despite the fact that apparently only two people are reading this, I shall continue because they were kind enough to review.

anyway, this chapter actually has some funny parts, at least I think so. Ch. 3 is also almost done, so that will be up soon as well.

and now for the forgotte disclaimer:

No, sadly I don't own POTC or any of the fabulous characters (although I do own cardboard cutouts of them :)

* * *

Elizabeth sat at the kitchen table, the sole light in the room a lone flickering candle. The sun had long since set, and all her curious or well-meaning neighbors had gone home. There were dark circles under her eyes as she stared at the note, rereading it for the thousandth time.

How was she supposed to choose? If she didn't give them the chest, her son would be killed. Tears began to roll down her cheeks. If she did give them the chest, they would kill Will, and probably kill Dylan anyway. So what should she do? It seemed that either way, it was unlikely that she would ever get her son back. That thought brought a fresh wave of tears, and she buried her head in her crossed arms, sobbing.

Regaining control of herself, she got up and started pacing around the room, talking to herself.

"Ok, what you need is a plan. You can't just go into this blindly. Right now, what do you know? That two men took Dylan, that they want the Dead Man's Chest, and that presumably, they don't know where it is." She was glad that she had thought to hide it somewhere away from her house. She had hidden it in a very secure place that she was sure no one would ever find. There was only one other person on the planet who even knew where it was, and for some reason, she trusted him enough to not be worried. And although the note did not say to bring the chest with her to Tortuga, she would need to retrieve it at some point, and that could be troublesome.

"All right, so that's all I know. Now what don't I know?" she asked herself, now pacing in circles around the table as she talked to herself. "I don't know _who_ it is that wants the chest, or even if they actually plan on stabbing Will's heart, although it seems to be the most likely course of action. I also don't know where they've taken Dylan or where they want me to take the chest." She slumped back into her chair.

"I guess that's it then. I need more information if I'm going to save both Will and Dylan, and the only way I'm going to get it in Tortuga!"

Two days later, Elizabeth, or John, as she had introduced herself to the crew of the _Fine Commerce_, stepped off said ship and into the town of Tortuga. Dressed as a man, she felt completely confident. Putting on pants for the first time in over three years had almost been a religious experience for her, and she certainly didn't miss the corsets. She didn't see how she'd ever go back to wearing them and those annoying skirts again.

It was early evening, so the drunks were not out in full force yet as she made her way to The Faithful Bride. There was only one or two men stumbling around, most people were still sober, but she knew that it wouldn't last long after nightfall. She hurried to the tavern, hoping to avoid the drunken rush later, and to find a room for the night.

Inside the tavern, she was met with sights, sounds, and smells that were all too familiar to her. Although there was no mass brawl or drunken frenzy yet, the room was still filled with people talking, eating and drinking. A band was playing a familiar song in the corner, and the whole place reeked of rum, smoke, and sweat. She weaved through the crowd and made her way up to the bartender.

"Excuse me, I was told to come see you about some information," she said after getting the scraggly old man's attention.

"Yeah? You and a million others. Wha's yer name, boy?"he asked sourly.

"Elizabeth Swa- Turner. My name's Elizabeth Turner," she said. He squinted his eyes, an eyebrow raised in surprise, but reached under the bar for a grubby note anyway.

"I'd also like to rent a room for the night," she asked, tucking the note safely into her vest.

"That'll be 5 shillings," she paid him, and he tossed her a set of keys, "Up the stairs, first room on the right. I'd keep it locked if I was you."

She thanked him and headed upstairs. Her room was small, the only furnishing a large bed that took over most of the room. She shuddered in disgust, realizing why. Maybe she'd be sleeping on the floor, since the sheets probably hadn't been washed since the previous occupants. She pulled the note out of her vest and unfolded it with shaking hands.

_ Mrs. Turner_

_I see you've decided to save you son. Good. Now would be the time to retrieve the Chest from where ever you've hidden it, and bring it to Isle of Devils. On the south side of the largest island, you will find a large boulder with the letters R P carved on the side. Approximately three miles inland you will come to an old abandoned settlement. We'll be waiting in the church. Bring the Chest, and don't be late._

Elizabeth stretched out on the floor. She'd been too disgusted to even look at the bed. Thoughts were rushing around her head at an alarming rate. Ok, so now she knew where she needed to go to find her son, but she still didn't know what she was going to do. She didn't know how she was going to get there, how she would rescue her son once she got there, and she had no idea how she would get Will's heart. Obviously she wasn't going to give it to them, but she'd at least need the chest. The problem was, she wouldn't know how to get to the chest even if she had a crew and ship to take her there. It was hidden very well, someplace she had been, but not someplace she could find. She was going to need a miracle.

Her stomach rumbled. Apparently she would need food first. She was hesitant about leaving the relative safety of her locked room and traveling into the alcohol fueled chaos below, but she never was too good with hunger. She stiffly rose from the floor, and, taking a deep breath, unlocked her door and walked out of her room.

If the hallway was madness, it was nothing compared to the mass pandemonium downstairs. Suddenly wishing she had a cutlass, Elizabeth elbowed her way over to the bar. She got a bowl of soup and a mug of rum. Much to her dismay, they stopped serving anything alcohol free after sundown. Carefully balancing her food, she fought her way to the back corner of the room. There was a lone table there that still had all four legs, and more importantly, was still standing on them. The inebriated crowd seemed to be staying out of this area, so she thought she might get to eat her meal in relative peace. Ignoring the man slumped over a potted plant next to her she dug into her food with gusto. The soup really wasn't that bad, for all she couldn't tell what it was made from.

The rum, on the other hand, was a surprise. She hadn't had anything stronger then wine since her return to civilization, but she hadn't thought she missed it. But as soon as the familiar flavor hit her mouth, and as soon as it burned down her throat, spreading all the way to her finger tips, she would almost have sworn she had. Looking around the crazy room, she realized no, she hadn't missed it, maybe just the false comfort it provided. Although she could have used some of that comfort the last few days. She set the mug back down and didn't pick it up again.

As she rose to return to her room, the drunk man with the plant started muttering, and it froze Elizabeth in her tracks.

"And then they made me their chief," he slurred, apparently to the plant. Elizabeth turned slowly around, and wondered why he hadn't recognized that unruly mop of hair before.

"Jack?" she asked tentatively. The drunk jerked.

"Oh, so you do speak. I thought maybe you was one of those mute types…not that I'd minded, best listener I've ever met," he said, leaning in closer to the plant.

"Jack Sparrow!" Elizabeth said again, more loudly and with undeniable excitement in her voice. Had she received her miracle?

"Captain! Captain Jack Sparrow, love," he said as he tried to turn around while sitting. The plant hit him right in the face. "oh, where'd that come from." He noticed Elizabeth standing there, but didn't recognize her. "Did you see a girl here a few seconds ago? Real quiet, wherein green, skinny, real twig of a thing… a well, wa's your name?" he asked, somehow recognizing she was a woman despite her disguise. Probably a sixth sense or something. He tried to get up, and fell right back on his butt.

"Jack, it's me, it's Elizabeth," she said, still excited, helping him to his feet. She let go of him when he was standing, only to have him start swaying. She caught him just before he fell into her.

"Oh, Jack, how much have you had to drink?" she asked, her face falling along with her mood. She needed his help and he was drunk out of his mind. Typical. It was a vile drink, and one he never seemed to be without.

"I've only had ton or wooOO-" he said as he began to fall over again.

"Only one or two bottles probably. Jack! I think you've had enough." She told him.

"Enough? Never darling, I'm only gonna have one more," he slurred, stumbling over again.

"Alright, I'm getting you out of here before you hurt yourself," she said as she caught him. He squinted at her drunkenly, really seeing her for the first time. His eyes widened in disbelief.

"Blimey, maybe I have had too much…" he said, and then proceeded to pass out. She once again caught him as he fell into her. Wrapping one arm around her neck, she hoisted him up and began dragging him up to her room. _Only in Tortuga could someone drag a lifeless body into a strange room and nobody think there was anything odd about it_, she thought as she struggled to unlock the door. Once inside, she kicked the door shut and dropped Jack on the bed. She curled up on the floor herself, the bed looking even less inviting then it did an hour ago, and futilely waited for sleep to find her.

* * *


	3. I should probably think up chapter title

Ok, so it's up a little later then I wanted it to be, but it was delayed by Father's day. We took my dad to see Indiana Jones, and I noticed, Indiana's obsession with his hat rivals that of Jack's... funny

Disclaimer: I do not own POTC, Jack Sparrow, or any other characters. Trust me, if I did, everyone would know about it

* * *

A loud thundering woke Elizabeth the next morning, and it was a few seconds before she remembered that Jack was in the room with her. He was still asleep, snoring away. She pulled herself up to the floor, a little worse for wear after sleeping on the cold, hard wood all night. She waved her hand in Jacks face, then called his name. When he didn't wake up, she decided he'd be alright if she left him there for a few minutes to go down stairs. She quietly slid out of the room, locking the door behind her.

She returned a few minutes later with a tray containing two bowls of a questionable porridge, a pitcher of water, and a pot of coffee. Jack hadn't moved an inch, and was still snoring at an alarming volume. She set the tray down on the opposite side of the bed and poured a mug of coffee. Holding it close to Jack's face, she nudged him to try to wake him up. He stirred, then began sniffing.

"Coffee?" he muttered. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting as if to avoid letting any light reach them.

"Nice of you to rejoin the world of the living, Captain Sparrow," she said quietly. He still cringed, sat up, then opened his eyes a little more to see the source of the all too familiar voice.

"Am I still drunk?" he rasped. Elizabeth handed him a glass of water. He took it and downed it quickly.

"No, Jack, you are sober, and probably suffering from the after effects of last night's drinking," she answered, still no louder than a whisper.

"I feel like me head's been shot out of a cannon," he said, holding onto the offending object and slowly sitting up.

"I'm not surprised. I brought you some coffee, I thought it might help."He took the coffee and drank half of it. Feeling slightly more human, he looked around at his surroundings for the first time. He quickly recognized the room.

"You know Lizzie, if you wanted me that bad, all you had to do was ask," he said, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Elizabeth glowered at him.

"You know I'm married," she said angrily. Of course _that_ would be the first thing he thought of.

"Then what brings you to Tortuga?" he asked.

"It's my son-" she started.

"You have a son?" he asked surprised. she nodded. "Is it Will's?" he asked bluntly. Elizabeth, rightly so, was out raged.

"Of course he is! What kind of a woman do you take me for?" she yelled. She was pleased when he grabbed his aching head in protest.

"I'm just saying, a lot can change in three years, love," he said, as if that excused his not so subtle insinuations. _Or nothing at all,_ she thought to herself, the quickly got back on subject.

"Jack, can you please be serious? This is important!" she pleaded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Jack noticed her eyes were filling up with unshed tears. That brought him right back down to Earth.

"Alright, love, I'm sorry. What's wrong with your son?" he said seriously.

"He's been kidnapped! Four days ago, I came home from the market to find the girl who was watching him unconscious on the floor, and a note on the table. Jack, they want the Chest, they want Will's heart, or they'll kill my little boy!" she sobbed. Jack, like any sane man, started to panic as soon as the water works started. Why did women have to cry? Why couldn't they just get pissed off like men? Not knowing what else to do, he awkwardly put his arm around her shoulder. When she started to cry harder, he sighed and pulled her closer so her head was resting on his shoulder as he patted her back.

"Don't cry, Lizzie, I'll help you, we'll save them both," he said trying to get her to stop crying. Much to her dismay, she continued crying into his shirt. He looked around the room frantically.

"Of all the times for the rum to be gone," he muttered to himself. Elizabeth laughed in spite of herself. She pulled away from him and dried her eyes.

"I'm sorry Jack. I've been trying to avoid doing that since I read the first note. I guess it finally caught up with me," she said, sniffing.

"Tha's alright, love," he paused for a minute. "What do you mean, first note? Is there more then one?"

"Yes, that's why I came to Tortuga. The first note," she said, digging the notes out of her pocket and handing them to Jack, "said to come here to get more information. I figured I couldn't make a plan until I knew where I would have to go."

"And do you have plan?" he asked, studying the notes. Elizabeth looked down at her hands.

"Er, not quite," she admitted. "But you do, don't you?" she asked hopefully.

"Aye, I might. It just so happens that I am familiar with the Isle of Devils, and the abandoned town they mention."

"That's good!" she said excitedly. "So what are we waiting for? When can we leave?"

"First things first, Lizzie. I refuse to go on another Turner Rescue Mission on an empty stomach. Last time was lesson enough."

"Here, I brought some porridge up earlier..." she offered.

"That's not what I was referring to, deary."

An hour later, Captain Jack stood on Tortuga's docks, an open bottle of rum in one hand and an orange in the other. He took a swig from the rum, then began marching up and down the hodgepodge group of sailors before him.

Elizabeth sighed. Trust him to turn down food for rum. If it wasn't for the fact that she had long ago learned that his mind worked like a gas lamp- the more fuel it has, the brighter it burns- she would have complained about his inability to stay sober until noon.

The crew that Gibbs had pulled together did not look promising. She recognized some of them, like Marty, Pintel and Regetti, and Cotton and his parrot. The rest of the crew were strangers to her, although between Gibbs and Jack, all of them were known to be passable sailors.

"Is this all of them, Mr. Gibbs?" Jack asked, obviously not impressed.

"Aye, Cap'n. With shore leave being so suddenly cut short, most of the men either laughed in me face or are still unaccounted for," Gibbs answered.

"Well, I've done more with worse. I'd still rather we had a few more hands," he said. All of a sudden, Gibbs let out a hiss.

"Cap'n," he whispered, "don' look now, but it's _them_!"

"Who?" he asked, turning around to look anyway. Elizabeth looked too, trying to see what all the fuss was about. Gibbs grabbed Jack's shoulder and pulled him back around.

"Oh, _them_," Jack said, horror written plainly across his face. "Right then, Gents, and Lady, "he said, nodding to Elizabeth, "Time is money, scurry now, board the ship!" He quickly led the way, stumbling up the the gangway with his usually odd graceless grace.

Once on board, she went to stand by the rail with Jack.

"What was that all about?" she asked. Jack pointed to two men coming down the dock, apparently headed straight for the _Pearl. _Elizabeth thought they looked familiar, but couldn't place them.

"What about them?" she asked again.

"They were there during the Battle," Jack started, not needing to specify which battle. "They turned pirate when they wound up on the wrong ship at the wrong time. They used to be Navy."

"Murtogg and Mullroy! I remember them now. Weren't they there when you pulled me out of the water the day we met?" she asked. As she spoke, she noticed one of the crew talking to them, then they walked away dejectedly.

"Aye, that was them. They have a habit of turning up all over the place," Jack said.

"So why all the rush to get away from them?"

"Because they have proved to be, without any doubt, the _worst_ two excuses for pirates to ever step foot on a ship, boat, or other craft-like object," he said.

"And their really weird," Regetti added. He and Pintel had snuck up to them during the conversation.

"How are they weird?" Elizabeth asked, ignoring Jacks annoyed look at being interrupted.

"Well, you never see one with out the other," Pintel said.

"And their always finishing each other's sentances," finished Regetti,

"They're also constantly getting into stupid arguments," said Pintel.

"Well, their actually more like 'disagreements'" Regetti corrected.

"No, I says their arguments!" Pintel yelled, turning to face Regetti.

"I still thinks there disagreements," Regetti said. Elizabeth cleared her throat to interrupt them, trying not to laugh. Jack gave them a look, and they immediately ran off to help ready the ship for sea, Regetti tripping over a rope as he went.

"Are you sure their worse then those two?" Elizabeth asked, still smiling.

"Not by much. But, beggars can't be choosers, and, since at the moment we are not the latter, we must be the former, and the best way to rectify that situation is to gain something that removes us from the former category, thus entering us into the latter, savvy?" he said. Elizabeth starred at him like he was mad.

"Right," he said, as if that answered everything. Then turning, he called, "Mr. Gibbs, weight anchor, and I want every inch of available canvas open."

"Aye, Sir. What's our heading?" he called back from his place behind the wheel. Jack shouted the heading back to him. While Elizabeth was no great navigator, she knew enough to recognize that they would be headed in the opposite direction of Isle of Devils.

"Where are we headed Jack?" she asked.

"To retrieve said object that will promote us from beggars to choosers," he said.

"Jack..."

"We're going to get the Chest."

* * *

Yay! Finally some Sparrabethness!  
So, I was a little worried about Lizzie's little breakdown, and I'd really like to know what you think about it. The way I saw it, her son is missing, both their lives are in her (and now Jack's) hands, and she's feeling guilty for leaving Dylan anyway. so she's been keeping the worry and the guilt bottled up, and it just exploded as soon as someone said something nice.

Believable?


	4. Chapter 4 Finally!

So, I'm sorry for the delay, but I hope this really long chapter will make up for it. There's a good reason it took so long, though. Have you ever played Pirates of the Caribbean Online? If you have, then you understand. If you haven't, you should check it out, and then you won't notice next time there's a delay in chapters :)

Now, with out further ado, may I present: Chapter 4!

* * *

That evening, Elizabeth leaned on the rail, staring out at the surrounding water. The cool, salty air whipped her hair around, leaving it hopelessly knotted. The sun had set hours ago, and the full silver moon glimmered and glittered like silver off the dark blue waves. Above her, the black sky was sprinkled with countless thousands of stars. She searched out the few constellations that she recognized. The moon bathed the deck of the _Black Pearl_ in it's eerie silver light, much like the first time she stood on this deck. Only this time, she felt only peace and calmness rather then the piercing fear she had felt then.

She heard Jack come up behind her, and spoke without turning around.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?' she said quietly.

"Aye, love, there's nothing that can match it," he said in a hush tone. Neither wanted to disturb the magical beauty around them.

"When I was on my way to Tortuga, I was so worried about Dylan, I didn't even notice I was at sea again. I can't believe how much I've missed it," she said. Jack chuckled.

"What?" she asked, turning around.

"Pirate," he accused with a grin. She laughed too.

"I think I've done more then stare at the sea to make me a pirate," she said. "King, remember?" she added, pointing to herself.

"How could I forget," he laughed. They stared out to sea in silence for a few minutes. Elizabeth had forgotten how nice it could be to spend time with Jack when he wasn't making insinuations or being insulting.

"Why Dylan?" he asked suddenly, disrupting the quiet, "I would have thought you'd name 'im after the whel- Will."

"I did. His name is actually William. Dylan is sort of a nickname," she answered.

"And how did William turn into Dylan?" he asked, trying to figure it out in his head the progression from William to Dylan.

"Oh, it's a long story, I'm sure you don't want to hear it," she said.

"Come on, we've got the time, let's have it," he said. Elizabeth smiled. Those were the same words he used when he had wanted her to sing the pirate song when they were marooned on that island together, an island they would be arriving at in two days time. Where's a better place to hide something then that god-forsaken spit of land? Jack smiled and added, "Or am I going to have to get you drunk again." She laughed out right at that.

"But Jack, there's nothing here for me to burn except the _Pearl_," she said mockingly serious.

"Right, no getting you drunk then. Now are you going to tell me or not, love," he asked.

"Oh, alright," she said, relenting. "When he was born, I named him William. I didn't want to call him Will though, because, well…" she hesitated, then sped on, "I was still trying to avoid thinking about Will, and apparently I, er… called his name out in my sleep a lot, and I thought it'd be awkward when the baby got older." Jack raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"So, Will was out. I didn't like the name Bill either, so I just called him William, which really is too long for such a little boy. Then, when he was 6 months old, I was having an impossible time getting him to go to sleep. He absolutely refused to sleep. I finally asked a local woman who had at least a dozen children, and she made him a tea made from the herb dill. It worked like a charm, but he always smelled like dill. Eventually he got the nickname of Dill, and then people started assuming it was short for Dylan, and it sort of just stuck."

"You're right, that is a long explanation," he said. Elizabeth was staring back at the water again, this time with a worried look on her face.

"He'll be fine Elizabeth," he said. "You've done the smartest thing you could possibly do for him."

"And what's that?" she asked.

"Asked for me help, of course," he said as if it was obvious.

"Ah, yes, Captain Sparrow, World's Humblest Pirate," she said.

"And the best looking," he added, causing Elizabeth to laugh, which turned into a yawn.

"Oh, I'm so tired. I haven't really slept in days," she said. "Can I use the cabin I used last time, or is there somewhere else I should go?"

"Well, there's always my cabin," Jack said, waggling his eyebrows. Elizabeth scowled.

"You didn't seem to mind last night. If I remember correctly, _you _dragged _me_ there," he pointed out.

"You were passed out from rum! Jack, my son is missing, and both his and my husband's lives are in danger. Could you at least pretend to have some tact and decorum?" she asked, exasperated. Jack thought for a moment.

"And once said lives are not in danger I can go back to being me usual charming self?" he asked. Elizabeth sighed. She'd only have to put up with it for a few days at the most once Dylan was safe, and she thought she could handle that.

"Fine," she said shortly.

"Fine. Then I will try me best to not try your patience before we rescue your son, on the condition that I may resume me normal behavior once said goal has been reached," he said. Then he stuck out his hand and asked, "Do we have an accord?"

"We do," she said, shaking his hand. "Now where can I sleep?"

"Your former cabin should be in the same condition that you left it, unless of course Barbossa did something to it during the time which he had control of me ship," Jack said, a dark look crossing his face.

"Barbossa got the _Pearl_ back? How? When?" she asked

"I thought you were tired?" he replied.

"I am. But will you tell me about it later?"

"Aye, I will. If there's something wrong with the cabin, just pick another one, or...never mind," he said.

"What?"

"Nope, I'm keeping me promise," he said. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, then headed off below deck.

oO0Oo

Elizabeth found her cabin just the way she left it. The bed was even still made, which reassured her that no one had used it in her absence. What pirate would make the bed? The room was small and dark, there being no light outside for the small window to let in. There was an empty crate in the corner used as a table and storage, and a straw mattress on top of more crates to make a bed. The covers were thin and thread bare, but on a warm Caribbean night, she didn't need any more.

Since she hadn't thought to pack a change of clothes when she rushed off to Tortuga, and had slept fully clothed for fear of detection on the ship there, she had been fully dressed for the past three days. After removing her belt and boots, she undid her vest as well. While it was not as tight as a corset, it was still tight enough to keep everything in place, and after three days of being stuffed into it, it was a huge relief to finally have it off. It was like she was able to release a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. She slipped in between the sheets onto the mattress that was blessedly soft after a long night on a wooden floor.

She had thought that sleep would find her quickly, but she lay awake, different thoughts dancing through her head. She had know from the start that at some point she would need to find Jack, but she hadn't been prepared for how she felt when she saw him. Yes, there was the immense relief that she wasn't going to have to do this alone, but there was something else also. She had been _happy_ to see him, not because he could help her, but for the sole reason that it was him.

She knew that at one point she'd been attracted to him, after all the compass had pointed at him, but she had later come to think of it as just a passing fancy. But _could _it have been more then that? She wasn't sure.

These troubling thoughts, as well as worry for her son, kept her tossing and turning well into the night.

oO0Oo

That same night, Gibbs entered Jack's cabin with something on his mind, and for once, it wasn't rum. He found Jack rummaging around in different boxes, taking out charts and examining them, only to curse under his breath and continue his search.

"Cap'n," Gibbs called, trying to get Jack's attention. Jack, who had been on his hands and knees halfway under a shelf, looked up quickly and hit his head on the self above him.

"Bugger bugger bugger," he said, grabbing onto his poor head. Hadn't it suffered enough abuse today?

"What do you want, Mr. Gibbs," Jack asked, as he went back to searching his cabin.

"I was just wondering, Cap'n, if ye were gonna let me in on the _other_ part of this adventure of ours?" he asked. Jack didn't even turn around as he answered.

"Other part? What other part? We get the heart, rescue the kid, drop him and Lizzie back where ever they live," he said, his voice just a touch too innocent.

"Jack," Gibbs said, "I've known ye for nigh 10 years now, and if there be one thing I've learned, you never do anythin' unless theres somethin' in it for you."

"Aha!" Jack said, standing up triumphantly with a rolled piece of parchment in his hands. "I don' know what you're talking about, Joshamee, I have no ulterior motive." He had a hurt look on his face that Gibbs knew was fake.

Jack went over to the large desk and pushed some empty bottles and paper scraps out of the way. He unrolled the parchment and set some of the empty rum bottles on the corners to hold them down.

"Wha's that?" Gibbs asked, trying to peek around Jack's shoulder.

"This," Jack said grandly, "is a map." Gibbs didn't see the significance.

"Er, is it a _special _map?" he asked.

"'Ere, have a looksie for yourself," he said, backing up.

The map showed a chain of small islands surrounding a larger island. The sea surrounding them was filled with drawings of mythical creatures, mermaids at play, a kracken tentacle or two, and some Gibb's didn't even recognize. The large island was drawn in great detail, down to individual trees in some areas. It was surrounded in mist and more creatures lurked on the island. There were bats, small devils, ghosts, their mouths wide in a scream, and in the shadows of the trees, eyes glowed bodiless. There was a large boulder drawn at the bottom of the island, marked with an R and P, and a path that led to a settlement, drawn in perhaps the greatest detail yet. Many of the buildings had full floor plans, showing secret entrances and exits, hidden stairways, as well as things as mundane as a broom closet. At the top of the map, written in ornate script, were the words "Isle of Devils".

"The island we're going to?" Gibbs asked. Jack nodded. "Where did ye get such a fine map?"

"That is neither here nor there," he said dismissively. "This map will make rescuing Lizzie's son much easier, and that's all you need to know, savvy?"

"Aye, Cap'n," Gibbs said. He may have been temporarily distracted, but he was still determined to get to the real reason they were going after the kid.

"Why's this so important to ye, Jack? There's no money in if for us that I can see," Gibbs said. When Jack didn't answer him, he continued.

"It's got somethin' ta do with Miss Elizabeth, doesn't it?" he asked.

"Well, of course it does, Joshamee, it's her son, that's usually how these things work; Helpless victem gets kidnapped, loved one gets panicked, and I get dragged into a rescue mission," he said, as if explaining something to a small child.

"Ye know what I mean, Jack. You didn't see yourself when you came to get me to fetch the crew. Ye had a look in your eyes when you mentioned the lass, and I swear you sounded just the same as when you said we was going after the _Pearl_ all them years ago, like you were finally getting your chance to get something of yours back," Gibbs said. While most of the time he was an oblivious drunk, he had always kept a close eye on Jack, in hopes of being able to keep up with what he was doing. Who knew it would come in handy this much?

"So are ye gonna tell me why this is so important to ye, or not?" Gibbs asked. Jack slowly turned around, and came face to face with Gibbs.

"Because," he said, deadly serious and gesturing with his hands, "Last time I saw William Turner, he walked away with something I had been willing to give up everything for, and I intend to take this chance to change that."

* * *

Dun dun DUN! Ooh the suspense (I hope). So what is it that Will got that Jack wanted? Elizabeth, or Immortality? Is he helping Lizzie to get her heart, figuratively, or Will's, literally?


	5. insert creative chapter title here

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Alas, I can't think of a creative way to say that I don't own POTC. oh, well, you'd rather read the story anyway

* * *

The night was dark, warm, and humid. Although it was well after midnight, it was far from quiet. Strange calls echoed through the fog and trees, puncturing the night air. Things chattered, squawked, and occasionally screamed. Another noise, not nearly as loud as the rest, came from inside the old abandoned church. It was the sound of a small child crying. The little boy lay curled up on a blanket on the floor, crying and trying to hug his knees to himself. It was difficult though, since his one hand was shackled to a chain that was crudely attached to the wall. His hair was messy, his clothes torn and dirty, and his feet were bare. A plate with a few scraps of bread lay beside him, but although he was hungry, he didn't eat. He just continued to cry.

"Woul' ya shut ya trap already, boy? Wes can't get no sleep over here. It's bad 'nough listen' ta that racket outside all night long, I don' wanna listen ta yer whining too," a rough voice called out from across the room. Unlike the boy, he lay unfettered atop one of the old pews.

"Ah, shut up, Bane, your jus' as bad as the brat. All you ever do is complain about his whining, and it's getting' right irritatin'," came a second voice from the pew behind the man named Bane.

"Don't ya tell me wha's irritatin', Collins. You're lucky ta even be here. By the end of the month, I'll be King o' the seas, and if ya keep that mouth o' yourn shut, you'll be me firs' mate," the man called Bane said roughly.

"If this place bugs ye so much, why did ye give the wench so much time? It don't take a month to get here from where we took the brat," Collins said.

"'Cause we don't know where she's hid the chest. For all we know, it could be in China, or somethin'. I wanna make sure we get it. No need angerin' the Dutchman's Captain by killin' his kid before we have the heart to finish the job. Now stop ya yabberin' and lemme get some shut eye," Bane said. Collins, unseen by Bane, scowled and turned over. He was fine with killing the captain of the Dutchman, but it didn't quite sit right with him to kill the kid too. If the wench got the chest to them on time, why not at least let her keep her son? After all, it was her husband they were killing, let her at least keep the kid for comfort. He shook his head. He supposed he would have to get used to unpleasant business, since ferrying the dead couldn't be a walk in the park, immortal or not.

Dylan had stopped crying and fallen into a fitful sleep, and the dark church soon filled with Bane's snores, partially drowning out the out side noise. Collins tried to keep his head full of the better parts of these goings-on, such as being first mate of the most powerful and feared ship in the world. He'd get a large share of any plunder they took, and unlike Bane, he'd be free to spend it on land when ever they were close enough. Bane had promised to make him rich and free, as long as he helped him. _He had promised, and surly he'll keep that promise_, Collins thought as he drifted off to sleep. _He promised._

"Jack Sparrow, you CHEATED!" Elizabeth called, slamming down her hand of cards and standing up.

"Captain, love, Captain Jack Sparrow, and I did nothing of the sort," Jack said, setting down his cards and rising as well. They were at the table in his cabin, playing poker to pass the time. After Jack had conveniently gotten the cards he had needed for a winning hand five times in a row, Elizabeth was rightfully suspicious.

"You did so cheat, I saw the cards up your sleeve," she said, grabbing at his arm and pulling at his sleeve trying to find the cards hidden there. Jack chuckled, and when she looked at his face questionably, she saw the same look she had seen the night before when he had hinted she share his cabin. She threw his arm down in disgust.

"Jack, it hasn't even been one day, and you're already breaking your promise," she said angrily.

"How's that, love? I believe it was _you _trying to pull me shirt off," he said. She glared at him.

"I was not trying to pull your shirt off, merely your sleeve to prove you had hidden cards there," she said, annoyed. She had stepped away from the table and looked like she was about to storm off.

"Love," he said, stopping her mid-stride, "I have been a pirate for longer then you've been in the Caribbean. Do you really think I would be so simple as to hide cards up me sleeve?" he asked.

"Fine then, how would you cheat?" she asked in a tone that said 'I don't really care', although she really was quite interested. Jack considered not showing her, just to get on her nerves, but figured it was probably a breach in their contract. Without taking his eyes off her, he reached under the table in front of his former seat and slid a card out from one of the hidden slots made for just this purpose. He held the ace of diamonds up for her to see.

"I knew you were cheating!" she said triumphantly.

"Pirate," he said, half as an apology, half as an excuse. She rolled her eyes and leaned back against the dark wooden pillar behind her. Not a second later, though, she pulled away from it as though burned, and quickly stepped away. Jack watched with questioning eyes.

"I just have some bad memories of this room," she said, glancing at the chair as far away from where she had been sitting as possible, then back to the pillar behind her. In her mind she saw herself slipping a knife into her napkin, and stabbing it into Barbossa's heart.

The first thing through Jack's head was _Well it must not have been when I was here, because _nobody I _know has had bad memories of this cabin,_ but he kept that to himself.

"And what memories might those be?" he asked instead. "I would assume they'd be from your first voyage aboard the _Pearl_?"

"Barbossa coerced me into having dinner with him-"

"I can see why you'd not like it here then," he said with a shudder. Elizabeth grinned and continued.

"Well, I was absolutely terrified, because he had refused to let me off the ship at Port Royal, and I didn't know what they were going to do to me. When he wasn't looking, I slipped the dinner knife into my lap, then the next thing I know, he's chasing me around the cabin, and then I got him backed up against that pillar and drove the knife into his heart," she said with a look on her face that said she still didn't entirely believe she'd done that herself.

"Good for you, Lizzie. Old Hector needs a good stabbing once in a while," Jack said proudly. "I'm curious though. What was it you planned on doing after you killed him?"

"That was his question, too. I really don't know what I would have done. I was too horrified at what I had done to have even remembered my plan had I'd had one," she answered.

"Well, I'm proud of you anyway. Although, I am a bit disappointed," he said.

"About what?" she couldn't imagine why he'd be disappointed in her stabbing Barbossa.

"Well, all this time, I've been thinkin' I was the first person you wanted dead. I feel like Barbossa's beaten me again," he said, a look of mock hurt on his face. The distressed look on Elizabeth's face was far from pretend, however.

"Jack, can we please not talk about that?" she asked. She supposed it was too big of an issue for him to simply forget about. Jack looked at her seriously.

"For now," he said. "But there are some things I want to talk to you about once our little agreement is up."

Elizabeth sighed. Maybe she'd get lucky and he would forget, but she doubted it. If he'd waited three years, he'd probably not forget in a few days.

"How long until we reach the island?" she asked, changing the subject.

"We'll reach it sometime during the night, then at first light you and I will set out with shovels."

"Remind me again why we need the Chest if we are not going to be giving it to who ever took Dylan?" she asked. He had explained it earlier, but she just needed the reassurance that it was absolutely necessary to remove it from its hiding place.

"Leverage, love," he said. "Don't worry, I have a plan that is fool-proof, as long as you do as I say and don't do anything stupid."

"And what if those instructions contradict themselves?" she asked innocently.

"If you are following the former, then they couldn't possibly be the latter," Jack said smugly. She still didn't look happy about being left in the dark, however.

"Why don't you want me to know what your planning? Wouldn't it help in case something went wrong?" They had both resumed their seats by this time and Elizabeth was leaning on the table trying to reason with him.

"Love, no offense, but I've seen your acting," he held up his hands to stem her outraged protests, "none the less, the less you know, the better. Just trust Ole Jack to work it out, savvy?"

"You cheat at cards, then ask me to trust you," she said. "I just hate not having the whole picture. You are telling the truth when you say I'm better off not knowing?"

"Love, haven't I proven time and time again that I'm not the incurable liar every one thinks I am?" he said evasively. It was true that it would be much more believable if she didn't know what was going on, but he also didn't want to tell her because he knew she _really_ wouldn't like it.

"Maybe you don't outright lie, Jack, but I have never known you to tell the whole truth," she replied. Jack winced at how dead on she was. Despite her reservations, she knew that she trusted him anyway, for reasons she neither understood nor wanted to understand.

Feeling no need to deny or confirm her accusation, he rose from his seat and excused himself to confer with Gibbs on their heading, as well as tend to other ship business. Rather then stay in the cabin by herself, Elizabeth too rose and went out on deck.

The sun was blinding after spending so long in the shaded cabin, and she squinted at the deck until her eyes adjusted. Once she could see again, she headed over to the rail along the deck. She hated to admit it, but when Jack wasn't around, she was bored. And worried. He was quite good at keeping her mind occupied on things other then her missing son, and she had started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose. They always had such odd conversations, too. They could start out as one thing, end up as another, and mean something different all together. She still never quite figured out how they had gone from discussing her being married, to his being incorrigible, to her calling him a good man as she tempted him to kiss her.

Trying to dislodge these thoughts, she went below deck to the galley. It was well past the time she normally had supper, and even the weevil filled hardtack and the tough meat of mysterious origins looked appetizing. The cook was an amiable man though, and kept her occupied with tales from his days as a sailor, including the story of how he courageously lost his leg fighting off four Royal Marines and a Chinese mercenary. She didn't have the heart to tell him that Gibbs had told her that he had lost it when he fell out of the rigging. His stories were so entertaining, and he was so happy to have an audience, that it wasn't until she hear the ship's bell ring for midnight that she realized how tired she was. She thanked him for the pleasant evening and turned in for the night, mentally preparing herself for what she knew was coming the next day.

_It was dark. A fog had rolled in from the sea, burying the docks in their mist. The sound of water lapping against the docks, and of a far off bell filled the air, but Elizabeth didn't hear it. She was running, running so hard she couldn't breath. Her heart sounded like a drum in her ears, beating louder and faster then she thought possible. Her legs were on fire and her lungs couldn't get enough air, but she couldn't stop running. The sensible part of her mind reasoned that she should stop, because the dock was going to end very soon, and she would fall into the freezing waters below, but the other part of her mind felt the dock would never end. She ran, as though she desperately needed to find what was at the end of the dock, but she didn't know what it was, or if she would ever reach it. She was terrified, because she was trapped, but she felt sure that when she found what was at the end of the dock, she would be safe._

_She felt like she was about to burst, that she couldn't make it any farther, when..._

"Lizzie?" a muffled voice called, followed by a quiet knocking. "Lizzie, are you alright?" came the voice again. This time Elizabeth, who had woken up in a cold sweat, recognized the voice.

"I'm fine, Jack," she called through the door. Looking out her window, she could see just a touch of gray on the horizon, hinting at the sun rise to come. She quickly got up and dressed, then answered the door.

"Love, you look terrible," Jack said bluntly. It was true however. Her hair was sticking to her clammy pale face, and her eyes had dark circles under them.

"Thanks Jack, that's just what I wanted to hear," she said leaning on the door frame and stifling a yawn. "Why are you waking me up before the sun has even risen?"

"Did I wake you up? It sounded like you were awake, muttering something to yourself. I thought you were starten' to get as crazy as me," he said.

"I just had a dream. Or, really, more of a nightmare, it was terrifying," she explained.

"Care to share?" he asked.

"Maybe some other time," she said. she wasn't to keen on the idea of reliving it while awake. "You still haven't told me why you have me up at this ungodly hour."

"Right you are. We're at the island, and I thought you'd want to get an early start," he answered.

She nodded, resigned. After she had had a quick breakfast- more hardtack of course- she met Jack on deck. He was holding a pair of shovels and talking to Gibbs.

"No, Mr. Gibbs, Mrs. Turner and I will be fine by ourselves. It's only a bit of digging and hidden someplace I'd much prefer to remain anonymous," Jack said. Elizabeth cleared her throat to get their attention.

"Ah, there you are. Ready?" he asked. She nodded, more nervous then she thought she would be. The sun had broken over the horizon, and she could see the shape of the island not far off from the boat. She was becoming all to familiar with that view.

The boat ride over was silent, both of them concentrating on rowing the small boat to shore.

"Well,' Jack said once they were standing on the beach, "Looks like the trees finally grew back."

"I was surprised how charred they were when we came back the first time. I didn't realize just how much I'd burnt," she said. Looking at it now, there wasn't the slightest sign that the island had been set ablaze once.

"_I_ realized how much you burned," he said bitterly, apparently still mourning the innocent rum that had been sacrificed.

"Come on," she said, "Let's get this over with."

"You know love, it seems to me that you don't want to see your darling's heart again," Jack commented.

"I just don't like the idea of it being unprotected, out in the open, where anyone can get to it," she said. She had promised Will it would stay safe, and now they were digging it up and practically handing it to her enemies on a silver platter. It would make anyone testy.

Jack started marching around the island, taking huge steps, knocking on the occasional tree, and finally stopping on a patch of sand and jumping up and down.

"Found it," he said. He reached down and pulled up the hidden door. Elizabeth followed him down the creaky wooden stairs into the gloom below. Handing him a shovel, she walked to the far end of the cellar and started counting her steps. She stopped in an inconspicuous spot, not near the center, but not in a corner either. Someone would have to dig up the whole place to find it. Jack joined her and they started to dig.

"How far did you bury this thing?" Jack asked, knee deep in the hole. He had not been in the cellar with her when she buried it the first time, since she didn't want anyone to know its exact location.

"It was about to my waist," she answered, whipping her sweaty brow. Jack gave her an incredulous look. "I wanted to make sure it was safe," she said with a shrug. Jack started muttering to himself; things like "paranoid" and "no one would ever find the bloody island anyway".

"Did I mention that I buried something else with the chest?" she added. Jack looked at her with interest.

"I knew you would have to be here if I ever needed to dig it up, so I left a bottle of rum with it," she said. "Think of it as motivation."

"Your a saint, love," he said, and began digging with renewed gusto.

Finally Elizabeth's shovel hit something solid with a loud thunk. With just a little more digging, they were able to pull the wooden box out of the hole. They carried it up the stairs and into the sunlight for the first time in three years. Opening the lid, Jack quickly grabbed the bottle of rum, and Elizabeth pulled out The Chest. With her ear to its carved lid, she could hear the steady heartbeat within. It sent shivers down her spine. She both loved and hated having part of Will so close to her; Loved, because she knew he was alive, and that she would see him again; hate, because it wasn't fair to have a small part of him while the rest of him was so unreachable.

Jack had been watching her as he drank his rum. So many things flashed across her face as she listened to the heartbeat- joy, sorrow, anger, pain, hope and, loss. He looked wistfully at the bottle in his hand, the held it out to her and spoke.

"'Ere, love," he said, offering her the bottle. "Digging is thirsty work," he added, giving her an excuse to drink some of the pain away with out actually having to admit that was what she was doing. She smiled, seeing through his guise, but took the bottle anyway. The burning liquid cleared both her mouth and her head.

Jack noticed a small smile on her lips as she handed him back the bottle.

"Something funny?" he asked.

"It's barely past sun-up and I'm drinking hard liquor. I believe you're a bad influence Captain Sparrow," she said mockingly.

"Love, your drinking is not from my influence. I'm just an enabler," he said with a grin. Elizabeth shook her head with a smile. There was no use arguing semantics with him, he'd undoubtedly win.

"Come on, let's get back to the ship," she said, rising from her knees and holding the chest tightly to her self.

"Right you are," Jack said, checking the sun on the horizon. He closed the door to the rum cellar and swept sand over it with a palm branch. When he was finished, you couldn't tell the sand had ever been disturbed. As they walked back to the rowboat, they past some charred logs half buried in the sand, and Jack started to hum a familiar tune.

* * *

So, im not 100 sure, but i think it's my longest yet. Good news, next chapter opens with some sparrabeth, so leave a few comments to motivate me to get it out faster

and if anyone is interested, my fav line in this chapter is "good for you, love. Old Hector needs a good stabbing every once in a while."


	6. alas, can't think of anything funny

That same night, Elizabeth tossed and turned in her sleep. _Strange images passed before her eyes, never staying long enough for her to make sense of. Then she was back on the dock, running for her life. Her breath was ragged, her legs sore and tired, and her heartbeat was like a drum roll. She became aware of another sound, a second heartbeat, slow and strong, and far away. But it began to grow louder, as if it was coming closer. Soon it was louder then her own heart, her breathing, her feet pounding on the wooden planks beneath her. It grew louder and louder, eclipsing all other sound. Terrified, she screamed._

Jack was climbing up the ladder that from the rum storeroom, when he heard the bloodcurdling scream. Without thinking, he dropped the fresh bottle and bolted up the ladder before he could even hear the glass shatter. He knew that scream, and he knew it meant Elizabeth would need him. When he got to her door, he burst in without knocking. He found her tossing violently in her sleep, calling out and whimpering. Her face was scrunched up as if she were in pain, and he could see tears in her eyes.

He sat down on the side of the bed and tried to wake her. Her eyes flashed open, and she looked around confused.

"Shh, Lizzie, it's ok, I'm here," he said soothingly. She looked up at him, tears still streaming down her face. Jack couldn't help it when he reached over to wipe them away with his thumb.

"Oh, Jack, it was horrible," she said shakily, sitting up. Jack scooted over to give her more room.

"Tell me what happened, love," he said, resisting the urge to pull her over and hold her close.

"It was the same dream I had last night," she said, "I was running down a dock, terrified, and there was fog everywhere. It hurt so much. I couldn't breath, or see, all I could do is hear. Last night, it was just my heart and breathing, and my feet on the wood, but tonight," she stopped, tears running down her face again. This time Jack did wrap his arm around her and she leaned into him, her head on his shoulder.

"What did you here, love?" he asked quietly

"His heart, Jack. I couldn't see it, but it sounded like it was chasing me, and it  
was getting closer and closer and it was so loud I screamed." Jack could feel her shaking, so he rubbed her back gently. His arms felt good around her, strong and safe. She felt her heartbeat slowing back down and and her breathing even out.

"Your safe, Lizzie. Nothing is chasing you, the heart is safely locked up," he said. Now that she was quieting down, he could hear the steady _thump thump, thump thump_ of the heart. Looking around, he saw the chest at the head of the bed, next to her pillow. No wonder she was having bad dreams.

"Love, maybe you shouldn't have the chest in here. We don't want a repeat of last time," he said. She winced.

Last time. As in when they were taking the chest to be hidden. She had refused to let it out of her sight for a second, and eventually the constant, rhythmic _thump thump, thump thump_ began driving her mad. She refused to sleep for fear that something would happen to it, and the sleep deprivation started making her act odd. She became super suspicious of everyone, once even accusing Cotton's parrot of trying to get it when he landed on top of the chest. That's when Jack finally stepped in and suggested an alternative. They had stored it in the most secure location on the ship- The Rum Hold. With it hidden in a barrel behind two locked doors that only Jack had the key's to, Elizabeth relaxed and returned to normal.

"Your probably right," she said, reluctantly pulling away. As good as his arms had felt, she was now starting to feel guilty for enjoying it. What was wrong with her?

As they were taking the chest to its hiding place, Elizabeth found the smashed bottle of rum at the foot of the ladder. She looked at Jack in surprise.

"Love, that scream of your's could wake the dead. Do you blame me for dropping it?" he said.

"So what your saying, is that it was scared out of your hands," Elizabeth said with a smirk.

"Nonsense, it was merely in the way when me hand flew up to protect me poor ears. You've got quite a set of lungs on you, Lizzie," he said. He didn't see a reason to let her know that he really _had_ been scared. Elizabeth clearly didn't believe his cover up, but let it go anyway.

Once the chest was hidden, Jack made to leave Elizabeth at her cabin door, but the nightmare was still fresh enough in her mind to make her dread attempting sleep.

"Jack," she called as he walked down the passageway. He turned and looked at her expectantly. "What's going to happen when we get to the island?" she asked. Jack appraised her for a moment, then spoke.

"Come with me, I'll show you," he said. Elizabeth followed him into his cabin, which was bright with lamplight after the dark passageways below deck. She watched as he rummaged through a pile of parchment on his desk, and pulled out a large rectangular piece and laid it out on the table. He beckoned Elizabeth over to look at it.

"It's exquisite," she said. She was looking at the same map Jack had shown Gibbs earlier of the Isle of Devils. "Where did you find such a detailed map?

"I drew it me self," he said rather proudly.

"Where did you learn how to do this?" Elizabeth asked, obviously impressed.

"I was apprenticed to a cartographer when I was a lad. Learned quite a few useful tricks there. Your actually very lucky I even have this map. No one lives on the Isle, and most avoid it as much as they can. I only drew this a few years ago, and it's probably the only one in existence," Jack said, again with a hint of pride. Elizabeth was still staring at the map, her fingers tracing the lines of the tiny ink church.

"Why did you make a map of the place? Why were you there?" she asked, looking up at him.

"It was when I was trying to get the Pearl back from Barbossa, the theivin', slimy, no good bilge rat," Jack said.

"Oh, that's right! You promised you'd tell me," she added.

"Indeed I did. Have a seat," he said, sitting down and pushing the other chair out from under the desk with his foot. She sat down and waited for him to begin.

"Alright, so it was about a week after we got to Tortuga after hiding the Chest, and the whole crew was off enjoying their shore leave. Since I couldn't just leave the Pearl by her lonesome, Gibbs and me took shifts standing watch. I had promised Scarlet and Giselle a ride on the Pearl- What?" Jack asked, interrupted by the frown that crossed Elizabeth's face with out her realizing it. She quickly changed her expression back to one of interest. Why should it bother her that Jack had been spending time with whores? He was a pirate, she knew that. Then why did she feel so...jealous? No, surely not jealous. That was preposterous.

"Nothing, continue," she said. Jack, not being an idiot, guessed what had happened, but held his tongue because of their agreement.

"So, as I was saying, I was taking the girls for a ride, but when I got to the docks, the Pearl was gone, and Gibbs was curled up with a teddy bear between some barrels. After cursing him to the locker and back, I went in search of a temporary vessel. Unfortunately, the only thing I could find was the little dingy Barbossa had left behind where the Pearl had been. It was called the Jolly Mon, and apparently it was me new vessel. Of course, Barbossa thought he'd gotten the better of me. He thought he had taken not only me ship but the Singaporean Charts as well. What he didn't know was that I had taken the charts when he wasn't looking, and left him with a useless roll of reeds."

"I bet he wasn't too happy about that," Elizabeth said, imagining the look on his face when he realized Jack had outsmarted him again.

"No, he wasn't. I was planning on that though. You see, we were looking for the same thing- The Fountain of Life," he said.

"The fountain of life? It's real?" Elizabeth asked, fascinated.

"Aye, it's real, but just like every other grand treasure I've gone after, it comes with a curse. Sure, you'll never die, but you'll still get old. When I found it, there was Ponce de Leon 'imself watchin' over it. Looked like hell he did, his skin all papery thin and gray, and bald as a doorknob. Not to mention his bones was so frail from age his skull cracked when I said 'hello'."

"Oh, that's horrible!" Elizabeth said, feeling bad for the man.

"He said not to worry about it, it happens all the time apparently. He warned us about the...side effects. I don't know about you, but that was not my idea of a immortality," Jack said with a shutter.

"Did Barbossa ever find the fountain?"

"Don't know, I'd gotten me Pearl back by then and- well, I can't tell you yet 'cause it'd ruin the story," he said, mock serious.

"Yes, back to the story," Elizabeth said eagerly.

"Right, where was I? Oh, so I had the charts, and Barbossa knew it. So what I did was lay a trap. Now I knew Ole Hector wasn't above havin' someone else do the work for him, so I started askin' around Tortuga and a few other places for a boat and a crew. I made it well known that we were headed for Isle of Devils for a treasure beyond their wildest dreams. When I thought I'd spread my heading around enough, I lit out on my little dingy by myself, cause I didn't need another mutinous crew to deal with, and went to the Isle to wait. I waited there a full month before Barbossa got his slow hide to the island. He took a small party with him into the jungle looking for the fountain. A few hours later, I marched aboard me ship, bold as brass, and told the men on deck that Barbossa and the others had died, mistakenly haven drunk from the Fountain of Death, conveniently located next to the Fountain of Life. 'I tried to warn them,' I said, 'But Barbossa thought I was lyin' to 'im, the untrustin' devil, may his soul rest in peace, and they drank from the wrong fountain.' They believed me, and welcomed me back with open arms. Turns out, not all of them had like leavin' me behind in Tortuga after all. Apparently I'm more fun the Barbossa," he said haughtily.

"So that's it?" Elizabeth asked in mild disbelief. "You just waltzed on up to them, lied through your teeth, and sailed off into the sunset?"

"It was much more difficult then that, love. For one thing, we sailed at first light, so it wasn't a sunset. And another, I had to rot on that hellish island for a month! You'll soon see how pleasant a trip _that_ was."

"So is that when you made these charts?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Aye, I had nothing else to keep me occupied, so when I found some parchment in one of the old buildings, I though, why not, what else are you going to do besides talk to yourself," he said.

"So what happened to Barbossa? And the others?" Elizabeth asked.

"Well, I returned Barbossa's dingy to him. Left her tied up right where the Pearl had been, and I renamed her _The Grand Eunuch_. I'd like to see him sail into port on _that_," he said with a smirk. Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at the image in her mind, an overcrowded dingy, captained by a very vexed Barbossa.

"But why Isle of Devils? What is so special about that island?" she asked.

"Well, it's uninhabited, and mostly unexplored. You see, it's an odd place. Most think it's haunted, cause of its unnatural fog and the eerie cries you can hear, day and night. It's the last place most people would search for something," he explained.  
Elizabeth looked grave. _Jack mentally kicked himself. Here you are tellin' her 'ow horrible the place is, and now you've got her worryin' about the kid again. Stupid!_

"But it's not really haunted, love. It's just the monkeys. They make weird noises, and that's what people think are ghosts," he said trying to reassure her. "Trust me, I was there long enough to find out." She looked a little less grim, but still unhappy.

"So what are we going to do when we reach the island in three days?"

"You and I will take the Chest inland to the church. Then me genius plan goes into effect, and shortly after we will be sailing off with you son and a very un-stabbed heart, savvy?" he said.

"You are sure this plan will work?"

"Absolutely," he said confidently. "Everything will work out perfectly." At least, it would work out perfectly for _him_.

yay, more sparrabethy goodness :)Well, Next chapter includes the daring rescue attempt! which means, of course, if they succeed, Jack and Lizzie\'s agreement is over and he can go back to his usual charming self. :) Look out Lizzie!

So, tune in next time for some action, adventure, and mimes!

ok, so im kidding about the mimes.


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